Five Times Denny Embarrassed Himself in Front of Maria Ross
by hiyoris-scarf
Summary: ...and one time she kissed him for it.
1. The First Time

It was an August day in Central City, and the young man stepped off the train into a wall of shimmering heat. Even inside the station, the temperature was enough to make anyone in full military uniform pass out within five minutes, and Denny Brosh was already feeling a bit faint by the time he finally found the man who would escort him to Central Command. The blond, chiseled giant didn't look bothered by the record-breaking weather in the slightest, but caught Denny's arm as the sergeant staggered past him in search of drinking water, an ambulance, or possibly both.

"You are Sergeant Brosh, from Western Command?"

Denny blinked sweat away and stared unabashedly up at the uniformed specimen, who was positively twinkling with energy and vigor. How he managed to pull that off in the midst of a blistering heat wave was something Denny couldn't immediately wrap his head around.

"Yeah?" It came out as a hazy question.

"I am Major Alex Louis Armstrong, your superior officer. I personally volunteered to escort you to Central Command on your first day."

Major Alex Louis Armstrong proved to be a one-man whirlwind as he tucked the wilted sergeant under his arm and whisked them both into the nearest military vehicle. He crammed his huge form behind the wheel and deposited Denny in the passenger seat.

"Sergeant Brosh, allow me to express how much your service to the Amestrian military means to us. You may still be a new recruit to the Central forces, but trust me, working in this city will be the experience of a lifetime."

And Armstrong launched into a speech about all the duties of a good officer, which Denny supposed might have been intended as a useful orientation, but which ended up slipping past his ears without leaving anything behind.

As he sweated in the muggy car, Denny thought back to when he had first gotten the news that he was being transferred from his post at Western Command to Central—the city where his family lived and where he had first decided to pursue a career track in the military. Never could he have supposed that his supervising officer would be…well…whatever Armstrong was. The major was now waxing eloquent on something presumably very important that Denny didn't particularly care about, but his attention was snagged when he heard the word "partner" crop up in Armstrong's baritone monologue.

"What about my new partner?" Denny sat up and looked at the man inquisitively.

"Yes, of course—a very fine officer. Second Lieutenant Ross is going to be working with you, showing you the ropes. The lieutenant will be joining us at Central Command once we arrive."

Armstrong finally stopped talking after the brief explanation, and even though Denny wanted to ask for more specifics about the person he would be meeting, he found the temporary silence too enjoyable to ruin. Central Command was already looming in front of the car as they jolted along the rutted thoroughfare.

Once the car stopped in front of the huge building, Armstrong and Denny stepped out of the vehicle into the acrid heat, and climbed up the stairs to the command center's main entrance. Inside, the air was much cooler, and the hum of fluorescent lights mixed with faint echoes of the busy military personnel was background noise to Denny's first look inside the country's command hub. However, he didn't have too much time to get his bearings.

"Major Armstrong!"

The clear voice called from an adjoining hallway, and Denny turned to see a female officer striding towards where he and the major still stood at the entrance to the building. She was an inch or so shorter than Denny, and, he quickly reasoned, couldn't possibly be any older than he was himself. She had very short hair that was so dark it was nearly black, and bluish-gray eyes that he briefly thought were rather distinctive. Her uniform and posture were immaculate, and Denny was suddenly very aware that he had just spent the last twenty minutes wedged in a stiflingly hot car. He squared his shoulders, attempted to surreptitiously readjust his uniform, and brushed away his damp bangs, hoping to every power that his uniform didn't give away the fact that he had been sweating profusely ever since disembarking the train.

Major Armstrong beamed at the new arrival. "Second Lieutenant Ross, you're very punctual, as always!"

Denny glanced to the major at his side, then back to the woman he'd referred to as the second lieutenant, before his brain fully clicked. And then, characteristically, his mouth started making noise before he could rein it in.

" _You're_ my new partner?!"

Lieutenant Ross looked taken aback.

"Well, if your name is Sergeant Denny Brosh, then yes, I am. Second Lieutenant Maria Ross. It's nice to meet you."

She extended her hand to him. Each of her movements seemed graceful, though she carried herself with the sharp focus of a seasoned officer.

"But you're—"

He nearly bit his tongue off, because he realized that anything about to come out of his mouth was not going to do him any favors. But she was still staring at him with those intense eyes. He kept talking, even though every ounce of his logic was screaming at him to _shut up._

"You're sh-short!"

He wanted to bash his head into the nearest wall. Out of everything he could have said, he called her _short?_ That wasn't even an accurate remark! He really did deserve to be court martialed. Maybe, just _maybe_ , he could blame his damned idiocy on heatstroke.

Major Armstrong took umbrage on behalf of his subordinate.

"Sergeant, an officer's height is no reflection on his or her ability! I am surprised you would be so superficial as to comment on the second lieutenant's appearance at your first meeting! Even though great physical stature has been passed down the Armstrong line for generations—"

He was cut off by Maria Ross's bubbling laughter, which broke through Denny's consternation at having insulted his new partner right off the bat. Both he and the major looked at her in surprise, and in Denny's case, intense relief.

"You really do need someone to help you out, don't you?" She finally stopped giggling and wiped her eyes.

"You're lucky you didn't get one of the more sensitive officers assigned to you, otherwise you'd be on the search for a new partner."

She re-extended her hand, and this time he managed to take hold of it without putting any more feet into his mouth.

"R-right. Sorry."

She laughed again, a bell-like note that he wished would last a bit longer.

"Forget about it, sergeant. Let me show you around Command."

As she let his hand drop and turned to lead him down the hallway, Denny felt his expression relax into a smile. He looked up to see Major Armstrong's face once again twinkling with benevolence.

The two men fell behind as Lieutenant Ross led them in the direction of the mess hall. Feeling a meaty elbow in his side, Denny grunted and looked up at Armstrong, who was playing innocent, but apparently couldn't resist a last, good-humored jab.

"I told you she was a fine officer."


	2. The Second Time

Denny quickly learned that his partner could really be scary at times. Now was no exception.

He watched Maria Ross pace the fluorescently lit, sterile hallway with a vein popping alarmingly in the center of her forehead. She was muttering vaguely about blatant disregard for military orders, to say nothing of life and limb.

Denny gulped, and began timidly: "I mean…they _did_ get pretty beaten up at Lab 5. Maybe they've learned that it's not a good idea to—"

"Does it _look_ like they learned anything?!"

Denny backed right up against the wall as his partner stopped in her tracks to face him, bristling with frustration and righteous ire.

"Those—those _adolescents_ —are probably planning another escapade as we speak! And what if they don't come back from the next one?! They're just _children!_ "

The next moment, she seemed to deflate, her head drooping forward just a little. Denny was pushing himself to find something to say that wouldn't sound insensitive or combative, but before he could, she was speaking again, her voice small.

"I can't believe they just went off like that. Those two didn't think they could trust us at all—and _we're_ the ones supposed to be helping them. The idiots."

Desperate to speak, he didn't have the remotest clue where the idea came from, and he blushed to the roots of his hair right after he heard himself say it out loud.

"We could hit them."

Lieutenant Ross jerked her head up, eyeing him like he had just suggested that the Fuhrer of Amestris was a ground squirrel.

"We could do _what?!_ "

Well, the words were out, so he might as well defend them. He had nothing to lose.

"Think about it. They've already been yelled at and rebuked by their superior officers, and it didn't seem to make a difference. But maybe if someone just…slapped some sense into them—it _might_ wake them up to how much trouble they've dumped on themselves."

He had a persistent feeling that the more he talked, the more he was digging himself into a deeper hole of humiliation. He should have just stayed quiet—that was always the safest bet.

Maria continued to look at him like he was perfectly insane. After an uncomfortable beat, she responded.

"That's an awful plan, sergeant. One of them is the equivalent of a major and the other is Armstrong's height—not to mention the full-body armor."

Denny sighed and looked down at his boots. "Yeah, I know."

Fifteen seconds passed before she spoke again.

"You take Al."

Denny started, then looked back up at his partner. Her expression was set in a stern frown, but the corners of her limps jumped upward as she faced him again.

"Wait. Really?"

Making a mildly amused sound, she pivoted on one heel and beckoned him to follow her down the hall to where Alphonse Elric sat waiting.

"It might hurt a bit, but not nearly as much as striking a superior officer will. That's why _I'm_ going to handle Ed."

Still stunned, Denny hurried after her smart footsteps. Five minutes later and with a stinging palm, he was slightly less tempted to agree with her assessment.


	3. The Third Time

"Hey, Sergeant Brosh! Can you wait just a moment?"

Denny was on his way to the mess hall shortly after noon when he heard his name being called. He turned around to see Private Anja Watts hurrying towards him, juggling a coffee cup and several reams of paper.

"You need some help with that?" he asked, as the files began to slide out of their stack in her arms.

She stopped in front of him, and he quickly grabbed the mug just as it was about to tip off the top of the tentatively balanced pile. He took the rest of the precarious load from her.

"Thank you so much!" Watts beamed up at him, and Denny felt his cheeks begin to get hot.

Denny couldn't deny that during the last few weeks or so, wherever he happened to be within Central Command, Private Watts would often make an appearance not too far away. Admittedly, he hadn't been bothered by it. Who was he to complain if an undeniably cute girl were to start following him around? It's not like he was going to tell her to get lost. That would just be rude.

Watts glanced around the vicinity, as if waiting for someone else to show up, but she eventually seemed satisfied that Denny was unquestionably alone.

"Are you getting ready to head to lunch?" she asked him, fixing him with those round blue eyes—which had allegedly been the undoing of several _very_ dedicated officers—and pursing her lips ever so slightly.

"Uh. Yes? I mean—"

"Mind if I join you?"

"Oh. I think…"

She was practically stepping on his big toes. Why was his tongue so heavy again?

"Hmm?"

"Of-of course! That would be fine!"

Watts backed away an inch or two, to Denny's immense relief. He was supposed to meet Maria for lunch, as he almost invariably did, but surely she would understand if he left her alone for one day. She was very reasonable in that respect.

Adjusting the papers he had taken from his new lunch date, Denny began walking down the hallway again, trying to think of something with which to make decent conversation. Watts spared him the trouble.

"It's so sad about Brigadier General Hughes, isn't it?" she asked him, melancholy catching on the end of her question.

"Yeah, it really is."

"You'd met him before…it happened, right?"

"Just a few times. But"—he chuckled—"he would always try and show me about a hundred pictures of his kid. I thought it was so annoying, but…"

His words trailed off. Watts took a hesitant breath, then began in a low tone of slight trepidation:

"Did you—I mean, have you heard who they're saying—"

"Sergeant Brosh! _There_ you are!"

Watts squeaked and clapped her hands over her mouth, and Denny whirled around to see Maria Ross heading towards the two of them from one of the side rooms nearest where he stood.

"H-hi!" Denny felt his face burning again as Maria, visibly agitated, approached where he and Watts remained standing. She kept talking, not yet noticing that Denny wasn't by himself.

"I need to speak to you about something; I think someone may have started rumors about Fuhrer Bradley's visit to the Elrics after—"

She stopped short, finally seeing Watts where she stood slightly concealed behind Denny. He in turn looked around at the private, who looked hugely nervous and still had both her hands up over her face.

"Who is this?!" Maria gestured at Watts as Denny cringed internally at her tone. He began speaking apologetically:

"Oh—this is Private Watts. Um, you two have met a couple times, I think…"

Maria's face was bordering on purple, and she turned once more toward Watts, who was attempting to back away surreptitiously.

"Private Watts, is it? I'm so sorry, but I have to speak to my partner. _Now._ "

Denny barely had time to hand the mug and stack of papers back to their owner before Maria gripped his upper arm with bruising strength and steered him off to the side. Private Anja Watts promptly and happily removed herself from the scene.

"Hey— _hey!_ OW!" Denny shook his partner's hand off him and stopped dead, as he figured out she was trying to lead him back to the side room where she had just come from.

"What the _hell_ was all that?" he asked with some irritation.

She turned around to look at him, pinioning him with an icy glare.

"I might ask you the same thing. Your _friend_ could have heard something very suspicious just now."

"Well that's not my fault! You were the one who started talking without even looking around to see who was there!"

"And _you_ were being entirely too comfortable around another officer! We're tied up in this mess now, Denny—we have to make sure other people don't hear too much from us. Was she asking you about Hughes?"

He sucked in a sharp inhale, reluctantly admitting to himself that Maria was right, and at the same time furious with her for making him look like a fool. He allowed his wounded pride to keep him arguing with her.

"It's not like his death is being kept secret. It wouldn't be strange for her to talk to me about it! And then _you_ had to fly up out of nowhere and scare her off!"

She growled in frustration, and if looks could kill, Denny was as good as dead.

"Forget it. Obviously you're too concerned with what Private Watts thinks of you to keep the bigger picture in mind."

Humiliation and rage boiled in Denny's stomach as he watched Maria turn her back on him again, her quick footsteps receding toward the mess hall. He didn't look at her as he entered the hall himself, nor did he acknowledge her as he resolutely took a seat alone at the opposite end of the room.

From there, he had an extremely good vantage point to watch, open-mouthed, as several officials from the provost marshal's office entered the hall five minutes later, announcing loudly that they had come to take Second Lieutenant Maria Ross under custody as the primary suspect in the Hughes murder case.


	4. The Fourth Time

He _really_ needed this day off.

The weeks had blurred into each other ever since the news of his partner's murder, and he had floated through them with only a minimal degree of awareness. Oddly enough, everything seemed to stop mattering too much the moment he read the headline announcing the death of Maria Ross—the "convicted criminal."

The morning began when he was scooped out of his dreams—for once, blissfully free of the images of charred bodies and towering flames that had followed him through the last several months—by the sound of his youngest sister's voice.

"Brother! Get up, brother! It's time for you to wake up, Denny!"

Unsticking his eyelids from each other, he swam into consciousness.

"Uugh, I'mupalready," he groaned, reaching for the alarm clock.

"Whatime is it?"

His sister's round, pig-tailed face bounced in front of him, and she poked her short fingers into his side. She was the only person in the house who still treated him like the old Denny.

"You have to get up now!" she insisted. "And hurry up or you're gonna miss it!"

He turned his head towards her and blinked in confusion.

"What am I missing…other than sleep?"

"The solar eclipse!"

 _Oh, right. That's important…I guess._

"The solar eclipse? Oh, man," he groaned, and pulled himself out of his comfortable bed to a sitting position.

"It's not as late as you think it is. I've got plenty of time to sleep before it starts."

Glancing over at the window, Denny saw with alarm that one of his younger brothers was aiming a handheld telescope directly at the rising sun.

"Hey, don't look at the sun, you'll blind yourself!"

"I'm not stupid, Denny," the kid retorted. He adjusted the telescope, but then suddenly went tense.

"Hey quick, come check this out—it looks like there's a building on fire!"

Denny scrambled out of bed and took the telescope from his sibling. One glance was enough to tell him the eclipse obviously wasn't the only exciting thing happening in the city. His still blurry vision picked up immediately on the black plumes of smoke, and he heard the echoing rumble of explosions. Squinting, he tried to assess where the heart of the commotion was located.

 _Central Command?!_

His eyes flew all the way open.

"Do not go outside the house today, all right?!"

Throwing himself into his uniform, Denny slammed the door behind him and left two very confused siblings in his wake.

The streets were mostly devoid of activity, but Denny could hear the rhythmic tread of military boots several streets over, zeroing in on the conflict at the center of the city. Angling his own path in that direction, he passed a group of soldiers gathered near a military medical truck. Spotting a shiny head with a familiar curl of blond hair, Denny vaulted the roadblock and called out:

"Hey, major! Major Armstrong!"

The huge officer turned to look at him, obviously surprised.

"What are you doing here, sergeant? Isn't this supposed to be your day off?"

Brushing off his inquiry, Denny turned back to look at where the columns of smoke continued to rise.

"I saw the smoke from my house. What's going on down here, major?"

"Colonel Mustang and his former subordinates have chosen a path of dissidence. They're attempting to flee with the Fuhrer's wife as their hostage."

" _What?!"_

Denny felt his blood boil. The mere mention of Mustang's name brought to the surface all the confusion and rage associated with his partner's murder. Armstrong stared at him in some alarm as he began to shout:

"That devious _coward_! First he murdered Lieutenant Ross and now he's kidnapped the Fuhrer's wife? The man has got to be _pure evil_!"

Filled with resolve to bring order back to Central, and maybe dismember Colonel Mustang while he was at it, Denny took off running, leaving the major staring after him.

A few blocks later, he saw a gaggle of civilians gathered at an outdoor café, all with their ears pressed to the radio. Slowing, he approached them in hopes of hearing something that would tell him a bit more about what Mustang's plan of action seemed to be.

At once, he heard the voice of Mrs. Bradley crackling through the device, revealing that she had lost total contact with her son and husband. He stepped closer as it was revealed that Fuhrer Bradley's train had been blown up, and that a conspiracy in the highest ranks of the military had led to the current violence in the city.

The announcer's voice on the radio took over: _"To continue with our story, we now have an exclusive message from one of Colonel Mustang's men."_

Denny tried to shake off the shock of hearing about such a colossal conspiracy. Mustang wasn't behind the coup? Maybe someone working under the colonel would shed some light on what exactly was going on. He listened closely to the new voice coming through the speakers:

 _"Those of us giving our support to Colonel Mustang may be few in number, but that won't stop us from protecting the legacy of the Fuhrer."_

Denny's mouth dropped open, and every muscle in his body tensed.

"That…voice!"

 _"We'll do everything we can to stop these traitors in the name of justice!"_

He couldn't move—the familiarity of that tone hit him like a sledgehammer.

Maria's voice. Maria was still alive.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure about this, sergeant?"

Denny gulped, and nodded at the two officers holding bulletproof shields in front of him.

"I know someone inside the radio station. It'll be fine."

The three of them took cautious steps towards the building. Denny swore he could hear his own heart pounding crazily, but whether it was from anxiety or excitement, he couldn't tell. On the one hand, the place was bristling with the muzzles of rebel guns. And on the other—Maria was inside.

It wasn't really a difficult decision.

The officer in front of him stuck out a hand, calling:

"It's just one man! He's unarmed. He's coming now."

Denny took another deep breath, stepping out from behind the shields. He heard a voice from just inside the radio station:

"Keep your hands in sight! You make one wrong move and we will shoot!"

Keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead, Denny kept his hands up high.

 _Please be in there, please be in there, please, please, please!_

After what felt like an eternity of walking, he stepped through the glass doors of the building, avoiding the suspicious stares of the crouching soldiers inside. He was looking for only one person.

And there she was—the face he thought had been rendered unrecognizable by flame was smiling sheepishly back at him. Everything was as he remembered: her steel-blue eyes, the birthmark high on her cheek…her hair hadn't even grown an inch. Knowing Maria, she'd kept it short to be able to maintain it more easily.

It was as if she'd stepped right out of the past, back to the day she was taken away as a murder suspect.

It might have been the stress of having multiple guns pointed at him, or a side effect of the overall insanity in Central, or, perhaps, the unfiltered shock of seeing his partner come back to life. Most likely, it was a combination of all three. Denny Brosh came unhinged.

Launching himself at her, he saw her expression change from nervous joy to pure terror.

"Guh! Denny—!"

Much to her credit, she didn't try to run away, but rather patted his back gingerly as he calmed down, hiccupping into her shoulder. Gradually recovering his powers of speech, he took her by both arms and blinked owlishly into her face.

"H-how?"

She looked much happier now that he had somewhat pulled himself together, and gently set one hand over his.

"It's kind of a long story. I'll tell you once we're out of this mess."

Her eyes traveled around the makeshift military barricade at the entrance to the radio building.

Denny started, realizing that a fairly large number of ranking officers had just witnessed him have a total emotional meltdown. Letting go of Maria's arms, he nodded stiffly as his ears burned.

She noticed, and guided him towards the stairs leading to the studio. After all, he was supposed to be negotiating on behalf of the Central forces, and should be meeting with the members of Mustang's team who were holed up in the radio station.

He was staring at her again as she walked with him up the stairs. It was like they were just partners again. It felt so…easy. Like the rumors of her guilt and her death had just been a long, terrible dream.

Her cheeks went pink.

"What's with the staring?"

They reached the top of the stairs and he paused.

"Nothing. Just…really happy to know you're not dead."

She snorted.

"Yeah, I figured out that much from when you attacked me."

The corner of his mouth pulled downward. Apparently she hadn't gotten any more sentimental.

"Well, I bet the major's reaction will be worse. You just wait until _he_ finds out."

The pink in her cheeks darkened, and Denny swore he saw her start sweating.

"Well…actually…he already knows. He has for a while."

His jaw flapped open.

"You told _Major Armstrong_ , but you didn't tell _me_?!"

She chewed her lip, but before she could respond, another military officer walked out of the studio room and beckoned to her. She nodded, and turned back to Denny, still looking guilty.

"I can explain that too! I told him not to tell you. But we've got bigger things to do right now."

He followed her deeper into the building, steam building in his ears.

 _If we survive this damn coup, I'm going to_ kill _that shiny bald giant!"_


	5. The Fifth Time

A/N: Holy hell, this chapter fought me tooth and nail. But it is done. DONE. I love these two so much, but they made life so difficult when I was trying to finish this. I gave this fic the ending that _I_ wanted, which may mean some people may hate it. But hopefully no one's too unhappy.

* * *

The return of Maria Ross to the world of the living had swept by in the whirl of chaos, gunfire, and apocalyptic doom that was the Promised Day. Afterwards, the utter disarray of the military was kept at bay only by the ceaseless efforts of Roy Mustang, bolstered by the rigid efficiency of Olivier Armstrong and her Briggs men. As a top member of the colonel's force, Maria was deeply busy for the days immediately following the crisis.

When she had a minute to herself, she made the phone call to her family to let them know she was still alive. She hoped hearing their voices over the telephone line would alleviate some of the pain she still felt at having to vanish wordlessly from their lives. She had abandoned so many people, leaving them to understand that she had been illegally executed, still not exonerated in the matter of Hughes' death.

Contrary to her expectations, their tearful, half-disbelieving joy only added to the weight of guilt pressing down on her chest.

The only time she really felt comfortable, when she could forget for a few minutes the horrible things that had happened and go back to when all used to be normal, was when she worked with Denny. She really had missed his cheerful energy, the broad grin that spread across his face whenever he made a stupid joke, the way he would turn tomato red whenever he got embarrassed or nervous. She'd been gone for quite a while, but it seemed like he hadn't changed at all. At least, that's what she thought for the first few days after coming back.

A week or so after the Promised Day, when things were still calming down in Central, she saw him engaged in avid discussion with a group of other soldiers. Her partner appeared to be explaining something to the rest of the group, using his hands to make sweeping gestures. She watched as the conversation came to an end, and the members eventually dispersed.

When he turned around, he saw that she was standing at a distance, observing him. There was that blush again.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, walking up and glancing curiously at the officers who were walking away.

Confusion wrinkled his forehead at first, but quickly he caught on.

"Oh, yes, everything is fine—I was just trying to sort out a little confusion, that's all."

Maria set one hand on her hip and cocked an eyebrow.

"And you can't tell your partner what it was about?"

He paused, searching for the correct words. After appearing to struggle with the task, he finally came out with:

"There's still a lot of misinformation circulating about what happened a week ago—especially about Fuhrer Bradley's involvement, and Colonel Mustang's actions. I got really tired of hearing all the different versions of it, so I decided that whenever I heard someone starting a rumor, I would set the record straight."

Her eyebrows shot up. Well, that was a little unexpected.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at her.

"I may, uh…have dropped your name a couple of times. Gives me a bit more credibility, you know?"

Maria could feel her eyebrows ascend even farther into the stratosphere.

"Why would _that_ make a difference?"

He grimaced sheepishly.

"Something about how you came back from the dead and helped save the country's collective ass seems to have made you kind of a big deal."

She found herself gaping at him, and quickly snapped her teeth together. This _was_ news. She knew her return was a bit dramatic, but she honestly had never expected her "death" to put her in a position of authority. At the moment, she didn't really know how to feel, but the expression on her face must have alerted him that something was wrong.

He looked even more worried, and flushed noticeably.

"I hope that's okay. I just didn't want misinformation to spread, and I don't know how much they would believe if they didn't hear I got my knowledge from someone trustworthy."

She began shaking her head vigorously, eager to let him know that she wasn't angry with him.

"No, no, it's not that!" she clarified.

"I guess I didn't think through all the complications coming back would cause for me. If you think about it…something like this would be expected."

His tense shoulders relaxed, and that was when she noticed the dark patches under his eyes, and the mildly rumpled state of his uniform, like he might have been sleeping in it. How could she have missed how tired he looked?

"Denny, is there anything else going on?" she asked.

She almost reached out and straightening his crooked collar, but just as her fingers twitched forward, she managed to stop herself.

He opened his mouth, but his sentence was truncated by an enormous yawn:

"No, why would yo...aaauuwww!"

She grinned at him. That collar was still begging to be straightened.

 _Oh, to hell with it._

He went rigid when her fingers reached under his chin and pulled the fabric into its proper place. When he realized what she had done, he smiled and reluctantly admitted:

"Okay, maybe it's been a little crazy for the last few days. I don't know what Major Armstrong thinks I'm capable of, but it's almost like he's made it his mission to ensure that I never have a minute of rest again."

Another surprise. Wasn't she his partner, after all? If Denny had that much to do, shouldn't Maria be just as busy?

Totally unrelated to the new information, it hit her with full force that Denny seemed to have grown taller. It didn't make sense, because physically he must have been the same height as he had been when she had to leave Amestris. But now, she could swear that he had inched up. Even in exhaustion, his back was totally straight.

She sighed. So much had changed while she was gone. Even Denny, her one and only constant, was not quite the same.

"Well, I'm sure it's because he thinks you can handle it," she assured him, letting her hands smooth out the wrinkles over his shoulders.

"Speak of the devil," he groaned, eyes fixed over the top of her head.

Maria froze in panic, waiting for the booming voice that belonged to the major. He was still in the habit of showering affection on her whenever he saw her around command, which caused her to cast around for the nearest escape. Denny saw her glancing frantically from side to side and whispered urgently through his teeth:

"Too late."

"Sergeant Brosh!" Armstrong bellowed.

Maria whirled around to face her superior officer, preparing herself for the onslaught of teary-eyed enthusiasm that inevitably accompanied his approach. It never came.

Instead, his eyes passed over her almost completely. The major's massive jaw was clenched, and he looked as if he might like nothing more than to punch something. Eagerly sidestepping him, she saw Denny shrink back marginally as Armstrong glowered down at him.

"May I have a word?" the huge man inquired. Maria felt like she might as well have been invisible.

"Uh. S-sure."

Denny returned her blank stare with one of deep confusion, and began following Major Armstrong down the hallway.

 _I'll tell you later,_ he mouthed back at her as his superior officer stormed away, and she nodded quickly. She looked forward to hearing the story behind this.

* * *

Twenty minutes went by. Then forty. She tried to make sense of the paperwork in front of her, but her brain kept rehashing the incident until she was nearly ready to put her fist through the wall. That behavior was so unlike Major Armstrong—he nearly always talked to them both at the same time. They were partners. It only made sense.

 _A lot has changed._

It seemed to be the mantra of her life, at the moment. Resting her chin in her fingers, Maria tried to push the sentences on the paper into a meaningful order.

"Hey, there you are!"

Snapping her head around, she saw Denny coming towards her, headed for the chair at the desk opposite where she sat. His usual smile greeted her eyes, but there was something definitely _off_ about it.

"What was all that about?" she asked immediately.

He glanced around after sitting, as if to check that no one else could hear. Eventually satisfied, he took a deep breath and looked her dead-on.

"He wanted to talk to me about my transfer back to Western Command."

Everything below her throat plummeted. This had to be a joke. Maybe she should start laughing.

"What?" she asked, her voice small.

He nodded seriously.

"There's a lot more to it, but essentially, they're moving Central soldiers to the other command posts as part of a plan to get the military back on its feet. And I guess I'm one of them."

Her brain was still moving slowly over the new information. Denny would be gone. He wouldn't be her partner anymore. She sucked in air, trying to figure out which of the million questions she should ask first.

"When?"

He balked.

"Well…sometime within the next week, actually."

The entire room was crashing around her ears. _This week?!_

She had to take another slow breath, and when she finished her inhale, she surprised herself with the steadiness of her own voice:

"Did the major mention why you, specifically, are being transferred?"

Denny blushed impressively, and paused before answering:

"He _did_ mention something about being able to handle sensitive information under pressure…diffusing critical situations, being the voice of reason—stuff like that. Typical Armstrong gibberish, really."

He grinned lightly, but Maria knew instantly what was going on.

Central Command had Colonel Mustang and the Ice Wall of Briggs, and soon Grumman would be adding to the military powerhouse that was the nation's headquarters. But the other military posts were still in chaos. The fall of the Fuhrer and the exposure of several top military officials as parties to a colossal crime had sunk the entire organization into an ocean of panicked rumors. Faces from Central, with the authority and firsthand information they carried, would help restore a semblance of order while the country tried to put itself back together from within. The members of Mustang's immediate team, including Maria herself, needed to stay at Ground Zero in Central in case any new conflict sprang up. But others—ones who had seen the worst of it and passed through with flying colors, ones who could inspire respect without commanding intimidation—ones like Denny—would be ideal for the critical task.

Before she left for Xing, Maria would never have guessed Denny would have visibly distinguished himself enough to be marked as one of these candidates. But given how much had changed, it really shouldn't have surprised her now.

It would be a wonderful step for him. He'd have the opportunity to rise even further, and she, of course, should be the first to congratulate him.

So why did she have to practically paste a smile on her face?

"That's great!"

She cringed at how tinny her words sounded. He must have registered the insincerity, because his mouth quirked downward.

Trying to make repairs, she instead worked on bolstering his ego:

"I'm sure they'd only send you there if they thought you could do good things. I-I'm so happy for you!"

Her words were having the exact opposite effect of what she'd hoped. Now he was frowning outright, and staring at the floor tiles like he wished he were talking to them instead of her.

 _Bang-up job, Lieutenant Ross. Now he can't wait to leave the city so he never has to see your lying face again._

She couldn't stand looking at the damage she'd caused, so with a last heroic effort at a smile, she pushed back her chair and prepared to flee the mess in front of her.

"I just remembered—I have to go do something. Sorry! We'll talk about it more later!"

 _Oh my God, I hope not._

He was left stuttering, and as much as Maria told herself she wasn't running away, it was even harder to lie to herself than it was to lie to him.

* * *

Three days later, she'd still managed to avoid the sensitive topic with her partner at all costs. In some annoyingly persistent part of her brain, she knew she'd have to say goodbye. But as long as she could possibly go on pretending everything was normal, she could get through it.

She'd been naïve to suspect things would be the same. They had never been the same, not since she'd come back to life.

Every time she spoke to Denny, he looked as if there was something boiling under the surface of his composure, ready to explode. It was probably anger at her indifference to his accomplishments. And yet, she couldn't make herself feel joy at the thought of him leaving.

They were working together up till the very moment he was supposed to leave, and each minute buzzed with nearly unbearable tension. Maria nearly wished he'd just call her out, let her know that he saw right through her false enthusiasm, and allow her to wallow peacefully in misery without having to hide it any longer.

She braced herself for it when he slammed a folder down on her desk, a grunt of pent-up frustration slipping through his teeth. She jerked her head up to look at him, and knew immediately from the burning expression on his face that she was about to get an earful.

"Something wrong?" she asked innocently, at once disgusted with herself.

"Yeah, something's wrong!" he spat. _Here it comes._

She was hugely grateful there were no witnesses nearby as he fumed silently for a moment.

"We've been partners for a long time, right?"

His question caught her off-guard.

"Yes…?" she answered cautiously.

Without pausing, he followed with another question:

"And we've been through a lot together, haven't we?"

She nodded, silently considering that there wasn't a lot more they _couldn't_ have been through.

"So do you want to tell me why you've been acting like it's _okay_ we won't be partners anymore? You don't even feel a _little_ bit bad about that?!"

She stared up at him, mouth utterly dry. He looked like he had a lot more to say, but was holding it back with gargantuan effort. Even now, the tips of his ears were bright red and he looked like he regretted saying even _that_ much.

She ran her tongue across her dry lips and finally replied:

"Of-of course I feel bad. Why would you—"

"Then why did you congratulate me?! You're acting like it's some great step in my career! When I'd rather stay here in Central—with you!"

Her nerves melted away, replaced by anger that blossomed fast and hot in her stomach. All that time, she had worked _so_ hard to act pleased, and he just wanted her to be _sad_? How dare he?! Didn't he know the hell she'd put herself through to make him feel _better_ about himself?

She rose slowly from her seat, and a shadow of anxiety crossed his face, quickly replaced by the grim set of determination. It was harder to intimidate him these days.

So much time wasted on a stupid misunderstanding, and it turns out he just wanted to stay in Central. _With her._

She got up from her chair with the intent of yelling at him, but all of a sudden her breath vanished. Her hands moved so fast she couldn't stop them before they fastened around his collar, dragging his head down to a level with hers. His eyes were wide and astonished, staring at her before she squeezed hers closed and slammed her lips against his.

From head to toe, his entire body was as tense as a steel cable, and she wasn't any more relaxed. But before many seconds passed, his lips softened, hands coming to rest on her arms, just above her wrists where her fingers were locked into his collar.

Right when she thought she couldn't move a single muscle, Maria felt her hands let go of the fabric, and she slowly drew back from the short kiss. Her eyes opened, and she looked with trepidation into Denny's face, not wanting to predict what his reaction would be.

As it turned out, the expression on his face was somewhere between dumbstruck disbelief and utter euphoria.

She cleared her throat, way too loudly.

"I'm sure you'll come back to Central often, after all," she reasoned with no one in particular, as Denny obviously couldn't care less about where he was or wasn't being transferred, or perhaps even what planet he was on.

"Yeah…" he mumbled, eyes still glazed over. At her words, he quickly returned to reality, grinning with overflowing satisfaction that she felt was mirrored in her own face.

"Would you like it if I came back often?" he asked, humor masking the vulnerability of the question.

Partially to hide her own embarrassment, she smacked his arm gently.

"I thought I answered that question already."

Quickly catching her fingers, he held them for a second before seeming to realize that anyone could walk in and see them. As he let go of her hand, he grinned again, a sunshine-bright smile that warmed her where she stood.

"That's definitely good enough for me."

* * *

 **Epilogue**

Alex Louis Armstrong straightened his herculean form from the crack in the doorway where he had been observing, a twinkle hovering above his forehead.

"I hate to break those two apart, but orders from the top can't be ignored," he said to himself as he cheerily strode down the still-intact hallway of the command center. Denny's growth as an officer would make him an important addition to the Western Command forces—whether or not that assignment would be permanent, remained to be seen.

In the meantime, the major considered that the distance would, in a way, make it easier for the two to become closer. There would be far less scrutiny of a relationship between two officers who were not stationed at the same post. In that way, the transfer had been a blessing.

Instantly, Armstrong's thoughts jumped to a certain would-be-Fuhrer and the sharp-eyed lieutenant who seemed to be as constant as the man's shadow. Chuckling, the major felt reasonably certain that the military's anti-fraternization laws wouldn't be in place for too much longer.


End file.
